Blood Angel
by YoungWolf21
Summary: Gilbert finds himself in Ivans torture chamber, he broken, bloodied and praying for death but what fun would that be for the Russian?


Prussia laid broken and bloodied on the floor of his cell, he was fading in and out of consciousness and wondered if perhaps his pain would end soon, perhaps Russia would finally go too far and end his miserable life.

He already taken most of his sight when he slowly removed his right eye days ago, it was painful and it nearly knocked him unconscious but Russia noticed him starting to fade and ran smelling salts under his nose and snapped him back to his horrific reality.

"I'm having far too much fun to let you sleep yet" he had told him, a sick smile twisting up his features before he slowly dragged the scalpel along Prussia's collarbone.

Prussia slowly brought his hand to his face reflexively, cringing as his fingertips touched the dried blood that was caked thickly over the right side of his face.

"I'm going to miss my eye the most I think, Mattie always said I had beautiful eyes..they're ruined now" he thought, tears welling and slipping down his skin.

The summer weeds had begun growing around the bars that sat securely over the tiny window in his cell, slowly choking out the only remnants of light he had seen since his capture and making it increasingly difficult to keep track of the days.

Closing his eyes Prussia allowed his mind to wander, a few pleasant memories of Mattie slipped into view as he worked on blocking out all the sounds that echoed around him.

The first memory was a simple one, he and Mattie camping.

The summer sun was so warm that day that is he concentrated he could almost feel it on his face again, Mattie was laughing happily at Kumajirou who had been rolling in the mud and was beyond filthy.

"I met Gilbird on that trip" he thought, the memory taking over without permission.

The second day of the camping trip Prussia heard something fall behind him, at first he thought Mattie was back with the firewood but when that wasn't the case he went to investigate the noise and that's when he saw him; a little yellow bird.

The small bird flapped and squirmed when he picked him up but it was quickly obvious that he had fallen because he had an injured wing, he looked into his small black eyes and felt the need to care for him.

"I'll just keep him until he's well enough to fly" he thought, looking down at the little creature.

Of course it didn't turn out that way but Gilbert loved that little bird with all his heart.

"I hope Mattie is taking proper care of him" he murmured softly to no one.

The next memory to intrude was another one with Mattie, most of his pleasant memories included him.

Matthew showed up on his doorstep with a bottle of maple syrup, the perpetually happy canadian had no idea it was April fools day and he had spent the entire day suspicious of the gift before Mattie finally made a batch of pancakes and poured the sticky sweet liquid over them. That was the first time he tried maple syrup, it was probably the most delicious thing to pass his lips and he'd always be grateful to Mat for introducing him to it.

The sound of heavy footsteps told him Ivan would be dragging him from his dank little cell any moment and the torture would start all over again.

Gilbert instinctively pushed himself against the wall, curling his knees against his chest in an attempt to be as small as possible in a vain hope Ivan would leave him be.

"Tsk tsk Gil, cowering in the corner are we" Ivan mocked

Gilbert stayed perfectly silent, unwilling or maybe unable to respond to the large Russian that was now standing over him.

Ivan bent forward and clutched Gilbert's long dirty hair, using it to hoist him in the air like a child's doll and holding him up to admire his handy work.

"It would seem your eye is healing. Most impressive" he grinned, carefully prodding the scabbed over wound to check for infection.

Gilbert glared daggers with his good eye, his gut twisting at the look of pure, twisted joy on his broad pale face.

"Come now, I'll get a scream out of you yet" he promised with a sickening laugh before dragging the broken man out of his cell.

The torture room was large, there was a chair equipped with thick leather restraints and a drain for blood in the centre of it, on the left hand side was a long metal table covered in scalpels, bone saws and dozens of other tools of Ivan's trade and shackles, chains and extra restraints hung menacingly on the other side of the dark room.

"What shall we do today?" Ivan asked mockingly, dangling Gilbert in the air by his hair.

Russia moved swiftly through the space and slammed the broken albino in the chair, quickly strapping his arms and legs tightly to the rough wood.

"Hmm let's start by getting rid of this" he scoffed, grabbing a handful of dirty tunic and ripping it off the shrunken body in a fluid motion.

Ivan took a step back to take in the image in front of him; a once strong man bound against his will, bruised, cut and maimed beyond what time or medical intervention could heal and completely at the mercy of his whims.

"The perfect toy" he thought, his dick twitching as his eyes fell between the legs of the naked albino.

"I have a new toy for us to try today" he commented, stoking up the fire in the corner.

Gilbert swallowed hard at the words, nervous about what was coming and painfully aware of how exposed his body was at that moment.

"This is called a lead sprinkler" he informed him, holding up a long metal object with a sphere on the end of it.

Gil's face contorted slightly at the sight of it much to Ivan's pleasure, causing a sadistic grin to spread slowly across his face.

"My my, such a reaction and we haven't even gotten to the fun part yet" he cackled, quickly turning the sphere and pulling it in half.

The strong stench of hot tar wafted through the room and burnt the inside of Gilbert's nostrils with every breath, causing his empty stomach to turn and lurch in protest.

"I doubt you've seen this particular toy before, allow me to demonstrate how it works" he chuckled before quickly flicking his wrist, sending droplets of scolding hot tar to rain down on the small albinos chest.

Gilbert arched involuntarily in his seat, straining against the restraints as his nearly translucent skin seared and blistered everywhere the droplets hit.

"I knew would have fun with this toy!" The large Russian laughed, his eyes wide and wild.

In that moment an unmistakable bulge pushed the front of the Russians pants outward as the material strained against his size, revealing the true perverted pleasure he was getting from causing another man pain.

Ivan held the sprinkler over Prussia's chest and watched as the molten liquid slowly drizzled onto his pale skin, nearly throbbing as the man screamed against the pain of his flesh cracking and blistering against the extreme heat.

"That's what I like to hear" he purred, watching the look of horror settle on his face.

"Why don't you just kill me!" Gilbert finally snapped, unable or unwilling to hold his tongue any longer.

"Where's the fun in that? If you die..well you can't scream or beg for mercy from the grave now can you?" He replied truthfully, his voice breathy.

"I will NEVER beg!" He shouted, his own voice sounding foreign to him as it left his lips and echoed through the chamber around them.

Ivan stared wide eyed at him for a moment, truly impressed at the amount of strength the Prussian clearly still had.

"Oh this is going to be fun" he thought darkly, several erratic breaths slipping through his lips as his dick jumped to full attention and strained painful against the crotch of his pants.

"I think it's time for you to meet a friend of mine" he commented raggedly.

Gilbert watched the large Russian closely as he moved to the corner of the room and pulled something from a black duffle bag on the floor.

"Meet my friend, the magical pipe of pain" he announced, swinging the polished length of pipe with a flourish, a wide twisted grin spreading across his wide face.

Before Gilbert could process the words he felt the impact of the pipe against his right leg, followed by a sickening crunch and a shape pain that caused a scream to escape through his tightly pressed lips.

"I think we're going to have fun with my friend, don't you?" He commented before bring it down full force on Prussia's left leg this time, soaking up the crunch of breaking bones and the sharp screams that filled the room like a symphony of pain with every blow.

It was artwork to Ivan, the way the pipe sang as it sailed through the air, the dull thud when it makes contact with a body part, the crunch of breaking bones and screams that followed. Even the scents of blood, sweat and piss were like the bouquet of a finely aged wine.

The whole thing made his body sing with pleasure, his cock throbbing as it rubbed against the rough material of his trousers. On a good day it was common for him to reach climax while his victims screamed, drowning out his own guttural moans.

The pipe sang as it sailed through the air and a wet thud as it made contact with Gilbert's already mangled legs, sending a spray of blood across the Russians wide pale face.

A sharp inhale twisted his features and a low moan rippled through his lips before he brought the pipe down again, this time across the smaller mans shins, the bones splintering on impact as a blood curdling scream filled the chamber around them both.

Gilbert did the only thing he could at that moment, he screamed. He screamed as the cruel bastard swung that polished weapon into his body and crushed his bones, he screamed as he watched his blood begin to pool on the floor beneath what used to be his feet. He screamed at the thought of Mattie seeing him after all of this, seeing him as little more than a broken lump of flesh with one violet eye peering at him, reflecting the horrors of what he was suffering at this moment.

"No.. Mattie won't see this.. I.. I can't allow that" he thought, making a decision.

"H-hey you fat, ugly, snow covered bastard! Is that all you got?!" He screeched through gritted teeth.

Ivan towered over Gilbert, a wide twisted grin taking over his blood covered face as he brought the pipe down once more, this time aiming for the smaller mans head.

A deep guttural moan poured through his lips as the pipe cracked against Gilbert's head, a deep gash left in its wake and a sudden gush of hot, sticky liquid shooting against the front of his trousers and dripping down his legs as he reached climax at the sight of his newest masterpiece.


End file.
